


trembling on some new beginning

by babzilla



Series: Fox Fucks February Fridays [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Chancellor Fox AU, D/s undertones, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Emotional Constipation, Explicit Sexual Content, Food Play, Fox Fucks February Fridays (Star Wars), Hopeful Ending, Leg Humping, M/M, Misunderstandings, No men we die like beta, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shoejob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babzilla/pseuds/babzilla
Summary: He hasn’t taken more than three steps into the office before Fox is looking up, his expectant look immediately morphing into one of extreme vexation.Fives grins. Off to a great start.“What did you bribe my secretary with to let you in here?” Fox scowls, his nose wrinkled up like he’s just been greeted with a bad smell.-Fives isn’t too happy with how Fox keeps blowing him off every time he tries to have an actual conversation with him.But it’s okay, because Fives has a plan.
Relationships: CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: Fox Fucks February Fridays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144691
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62
Collections: Commander Fox





	trembling on some new beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Lupercalia Saints’ Day is my made up version of GFFA Valentine’s Day.
> 
> Sunny is one of my ARC Trooper OCs! He’s usually Fox’s secretary in my Chancellor Fox AUs! He’s a bitch and I love him So Much.
> 
> Warnings: none that I can think of other than what’s been tagged? Let me know if you think something needs to be warned for!

He hasn’t taken more than three steps into the office before Fox is looking up, his expectant look immediately morphing into one of extreme vexation.

Fives grins. Off to a great start.

“What did you bribe my secretary with to let you in here?” Fox scowls, his nose wrinkled up like he’s just been greeted with a bad smell.

“You call Sunny your secretary? Harsh,” Fives whistles, continuing forward without breaking his stride. “And I’m afraid that’s privileged information, Chancellor. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

He bypasses the four plush armchairs arranged in a shallow crescent in front of Fox’s desk entirely, circling the great slab of imported beryllius until he’s at Fox’s elbow, jumping up to sit on the edge of the desk. He watches avidly as the ex-Commander’s face goes through a complicated series of expressions, as if he’s constantly pushing down his desire to tell Fives to shove it.

Poor bastard, Fives doesn’t pity him— he can’t deny him anything, these days. Personally, he thinks that Fox could stand to take some pointers from Rex, if only Rex didn’t hate his guts.

Eventually, Fox accepts his fate, sighing in tired defeat. “What do you want?”

Fives draws back in mock offence, hand over his heart as he leans away— and not missing how Fox smothers his flinch by grabbing at his stylus. Fives allows him the charade, watching as he makes a show of looking away and replacing it in its cradle, pretending very hard that it had been in danger of rolling off his desk.

“And this is the reception I get when I go out of my way to bring you a gift?” he asks, waving the flat purple box he had kept stashed under his right arm.

“I didn’t ask you to bring me a gift,” Fox says flatly. “And get off my desk.”

“But it’s a holiday!” he protests, ignoring Fox’s order.

He watches panic spark momentarily behind Fox’s eyes as he goes through his mental inventory of all significant holidays that are celebrated seriously by member states of the Galactic Republic (and it’s a treat to watch that sharp intellect at work, even for something so mundane) before he settles down again.

“It’s not a holiday,” he says with absolute certainty, deliberately turning back to his datapads.

“Yes, it is— what did you think all the flowers were for?” He gestures broadly to how the Chancellor’s office has been liberally festooned with various types of flora— accompanying ribbons, tinsel, iridescent cellophane and all.

But Fox only shrugs dismissively, eyeing the distinctly red and amethyst floral arrangements with a look of familiar disinterest. “Sunny’s constantly getting gifts from his admirers. Spillover is common— he’s always trying to redecorate my office.”

Fives laughs, always eager to see the twists and turns of Fox’s thought process— and how often his usually brilliant deductive reasoning winds up making him look a little like a fool.

“You should give your _secretary_ a raise,” he says, pointing to the excess of flowers, artfully arranged so that they didn’t hinder access to the office while making full use of the light streaming in from the bow windows. “Clearly he’s been doing more for your sanity than you know.”

Fox only blinks owlishly up at him.

“It’s Lupercalia Saints’ Day,” Fives says slowly, presenting the heart-shaped amethyst box to him.

The new Chancellor stares, his eyes tracking the red ribbon bow tied around the box under his nose before turning away again with a condescending sniff.

“That’s not a real holiday. It’s just an excuse to sell cheap chocolate and inflate prices on the floral market,” he pauses, perhaps considering whether the inflation of prices in the floral market should be something that the Chancellor would need to get involved with.

“Hey, these weren’t _cheap,”_ Fives protests, watching with no little amusement as Fox makes a note on one of his many datapads— undoubtedly there’d be a new topic on the docket at Fox’s next cabinet meeting. 

His aides were going to _hate_ him.

Undeterred, Fives waves the box in front of Fox’s face again and the man takes it with an extremely put-upon expression.

“What did you want,” Fox says directly, setting the box down on his desk, unopened.

“I _thought_ that they’d be a nice gift to bring you when I asked to take you to dinner,” he replies, insistent, pushing the box toward Fox again with his index finger. “Open it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Fives rolls his eyes. “They’re chocolates, you don’t eat them because you’re hungry.”

Clearly not seeing a way out, and with an attitude more like a man going to the gallows, Fox pulls on the ribbon tied around the box and lifts the lid. And for all his extended posturing, there’s no mistaking the interest in his eyes when he realises that Fives has brought him dark chocolate covered strawberries.

Fox can’t be anything less than contrary, however, and he only nods before making a show of appearing busy.

“I opened it,” he says glibly. “Now, if there isn’t anything else you want, you can leave.”

Fives doesn’t understand why they have to play this game _every_ time. He’ll tease and poke at Fox until he’s spitting mad and Fox will huff and deflect for all he’s worth— right until the moment he finally jumps on Fives, pressing him into the nearest solid surface to kiss him until they’re both stupid with barely contained desire. 

And then one thing will invariably lead to another—as these things usually do—and after they’re both left panting and sated, Fox will be fixing his new formal robes and sweeping away back to work before Fives can string a coherent thought together.

It’s fun, he’s not denying that, but he does think it limits their opportunities to deepen their connection, their ability to get closer than a quick fling in the Senatorial green room. 

They’ve had more sexual encounters in this office than they’ve had serious discussions on the state of their relationship, is what Fives is getting at— and it’s left him feeling… wanting.

Which had led to this particular scheme. Fives knew Sunny from ARC Training— a particularly serendipitous development which meant that he was in the _very_ enviable position of knowing exactly how to bribe Fox’s incredibly irascible assistant into helping him get the newly instated Chancellor alone for a full evening.

Fives was going to take Fox out on a dinner date, and there was no better occasion to do so than this ridiculous, so-called romantic holiday the nat-borns were all obsessed with. 

He had it all planned out.

The new Chancellor wouldn’t be running away this time— and if he didn’t want to go to dinner with Fives, then he’d have to use his words to explain why instead of deploying his new job as a scapegoat.

But this didn’t have to mean that Fives couldn’t soften up the ex-Commander a little. After all, if Fox wanted to rely on old tricks to distract him, there was no reason that Fives couldn’t play along.

He shakes his head, grabbing the box of chocolate covered strawberries and discarding the lid before picking one up by it’s perfectly green stem, holding it carefully in his gauntlet.

“I’m not going until I see you eat one,” he announces, holding out the sweet fruit, the dark chocolate coating gleaming softly in the early afternoon light.

Fox snorts, calling his bluff on the implied threat.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says dismissively, projecting an air of cool indifference, though Fives can see his eyes furtively flick back towards his outstretched hand beneath his lowered lashes. Watching him, he wonders if Fox ever forgets that he doesn’t wear a helmet anymore— forced as he has been into complying with the performative nature of the Chancellor’s seat of power, bespoke robes and all.

“Are you sure?” Fives asks, waving the strawberry up and down for a second before withdrawing. “I haven’t poisoned them, in case you were wondering.”

To prove his point, he takes a bite from the dessert, making exaggerated sounds of pleasure though it’s hardly a chore— the box really _hadn’t_ been cheap. And to Fives’ mind, it had been worth every credit he’d spent— the dark chocolate coating crunching satisfyingly as he bit down, the flavour not overpoweringly sweet on his tongue before the red fruit burst with tangy juice, the flesh firm and fresh. 

He’s perfectly aware of Fox watching—no matter how subtle the ex-Commander thinks he’s being—and he makes a show of it, moaning around the bite as he finishes it off, depositing the stem neatly back into the box before carefully selecting another.

“They’re good,” he cajoles, holding out a strawberry to Fox again. This time the new Chancellor considers it, eyeing the treat in Fives’ hand before studying his grinning face. “Come on, I know you want to.”

Sighing in defeat, Fox drops his datapad back onto his desk, reaching for the strawberry, but Fives is quick to pull back.

“Ah-ah! Let me,” he says, enjoying the momentarily befuddled expression on Fox’s face as he looks up at him.

“I’m not doing that! I’m not an animal,” Fox complains, swiping for the box to no avail.

“Suit yourself,” Fives shrugs, eating the strawberry in his hand in retaliation, deliberately screwing up his face as he chews with obvious enjoyment. 

Discarding the stem again, he repeats the process of selecting a chocolate coated strawberry and holding it out to Fox.

He meets the ex-Commander’s eyes, taunting and suggestive.

Fox’s eyes instead turn to the door to his office and Fives internally cheers for his victory, knowing he’s won.

“It’s the middle of the day— someone could walk in,” he says, a light flush dusting the top of his cheeks.

“Oh, I left my helmet out there, nobody’s coming in here,” he winks back as Fox splutters, as if his aides don’t know perfectly well exactly what goes on when Fives visits. “Relax, Your Excellency, your legions of minions are very professionally invested in preserving your image.”

Blushing a deeper red Fox scowls, but says nothing when Fives gently lays the rounded tip of the chocolate-covered strawberry against his lower lip.

Fives watches him carefully, rolling the tip of the strawberry across Fox’s lower lip, and he’s delighted when Fox’s mouth falls open slightly as he tries to follow the movement, tongue barely visible between his teeth. He edges the fruit forward, letting Fox just barely wrap his lips around the tip, his face flaming red as his tongue peeks out, licking at the chocolate coating.

He’s almost relaxed—almost let his guard down—when Fox tries to rush forward, clearly thinking of cutting this new activity short before moving to other things. But Fives had anticipated the move, bringing up his left leg to cut Fox off, catching him softly in the chest with the greave of his boot.

He clicks his tongue softly, sending Fox a disappointed look. “Really? You know what I’ll have to do now, right?”

Flushed but defiant, Fox only raises a brow in challenge. And so, sighing with exaggerated grievance, Fives nudges his boot between Fox’s knees, planting his foot firmly on the plush seat of the Chancellor’s chair. Between the thick soles and armour of his boot and the layers in Fox’s new Senatorial regalia, he can’t feel much of anything, but he knows Fox well enough by now to know that if he presses up against his crotch the ex-Commander will squirm beautifully. 

So he does exactly that and wipes the arch look right off Fox’s face, the ex-Commander’s hands flying up to grab onto Fives’ leg as he leans forward, ducking his head against Fives’ raised knee.

“Now, are you going to be good?” he asks patronisingly, leaning forward and tilting Fox’s chin up with the back of his hand.

“Damn you,” Fox groans, his heavy robes doing a very good job of concealing the minute shifting of his hips against the toe of Fives’ boot.

He grins back, waving the chocolate coated strawberry in his hand in front of Fox’s face again. “Open up.”

Obediently, Fox raises his head completely from Fives’ leg and lets his mouth fall open. Swallowing thickly, he watches as Fox wraps his lips around the strawberry again, this time letting Fives thrust it lightly against his tongue without complaint.

Entranced by the sight of Fox effectively sucking off the fruit—his cheeks hollowing as he lapped at Fives’ fingers, his hips chasing the pressure of Fives’ boot against his hard cock—he can’t deny himself for any longer. Setting the amethyst box down on the desk, he sets about quickly undoing the latches for his vambrace with his teeth, pulling his synth-leather glove off in quick order before removing his codpiece. His cock, already hard and leaking at the tip, springs free from his blacks with barely any effort and Fives licks his bare palm before getting a hand around himself, breath hitching as he strokes his member.

Watching from the corner of his eye, Fox groans around the strawberry in his mouth, his hips pushing up more insistently.

Fives laughs breathlessly, digging his heel into the seat cushion and pressing the textured sole of his boot up against the length of the ex-Commander’s cock and balls, rubbing him off through the layers of his robes while Fox moaned.

“What’s the matter, Fox? You want my cock that badly?” he teases, pressing down firmly as the ex-Commander lifted his hips until he was almost out of his chair, his tight grip on Fives’ greaves the only thing keeping him steady.

“Can you get off just from fucking on my leg?” he asks, dragging his boot up and down the line of Fox’s cock. “What do you think?”

Fox’s only answer is a broken moan as his head lolls against Fives’ knee, his brow furrowed and his lips left looking bitten red and glistening with berry juice.

“Please,” he sighs, his eyes fixed on the movement of Fives’ hand as he slowly stroked himself.

Reaching out with his still-gloved left hand, Fives carefully threads his fingers through Fox’s neatly laid curls— the style longer on top than than he had preferred during the war and probably carefully chosen for him by his intimidating cadre of assistants. Pulling gently, he tilts Fox’s head back until their eyes meet.

“Please? Did you want something in particular, Your Excellency?” he asks, gloved fingers scratching bluntly at Fox’s scalp

Fox surprises him by answering almost immediately, his eyes sliding shut as he arches his back, seeking more friction. “Please let me suck your cock, Fives.”

The lack of conceit and posturing in the words, said so simply and sweetly, is enough to make Fives blush hard enough that he feels it in the tips of his ears.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says, recovering admirably as he shifts his foot, letting the toe of his boot settle beneath Fox’s balls as the ex-Commander edged forward in his seat. Pressing his entire body against Fives’ greaves, Fox wrapped one arm around the back of Fives’ calf, the other coming over the top of his thigh and gripping tight as he opened his eyes again, dark and heavy-lidded.

Without another word, Fives shifts his hold in Fox’s hair, pulling him toward his cock until Fox can press the flat of his tongue against the flushed red tip. With his right hand holding his shaft steady, Fives lets the ex-Commander move at his own pace now, suckling at the head of his cock with soft, barely there kisses. 

Holding Fives’ gaze, Fox takes his time as he swirls his tongue slowly around the glans of his cock, licking a line against the slit before sucking the tip into his mouth again. Slowly, slowly Fox wets more and more of Fives’ cock, never letting up on his steady, bobbing rhythm as he flattened his tongue against the underside of his shaft and took more of him into his mouth.

At the same time, Fox’s hips worked constantly against Fives’ leg, rubbing his own hard cock off against the ARC Trooper’s armour. He worked himself up slowly as he sucked, thrusting slow and long against the hard contours of Fives’ greaves, small sighs and sounds escaping his lips whenever he released Fives’ cock, coming up for breath.

Licking his lips, Fives can’t resist thrusting his own hips forward in time with Fox the next time he takes Fives’ cock in his mouth. The ex-Commander is too comfortable to choke, but his moans grow louder as Fives matches his thrusts with the movement of Fox’s hips, lengthening the stroke of his cock into Fox’s maddeningly wet mouth.

Breathing heavily, Fives can’t help but push down on the back of Fox’s head, letting go of his own cock to sink both hands into his hair. Moaning continuously, Fox digs his fingers into Fives’ thigh, relaxing his throat until Fives can pull him far enough onto his cock that his nose brushes the neatly trimmed hair at his groin. He keeps him there with a little pressure at the back of his head and Fox is content to stay until Fives pulls off with a groan.

Looking up at Fives with his mouth open and his tongue sticking out welcomingly, Fox looks shockingly neat— no hint of a mess on his face except his shiny lips and the deep red flush of his cheeks.

Cursing, Fives has to lean down and kiss him, licking into his mouth, tasting himself and an underlying sweetness from the strawberries.

They’re both panting when they pull away, but Fives doesn’t waste any time, leading Fox’s mouth back to his waiting cock and too consumed with lust to prolong this any further. Keeping a hold on Fox’s hair, he fucks into his mouth in deep strokes, his shaft dragging across Fox’s tongue and down the tight passage of his throat.

Fox swallows around him without complaint, not skipping a beat as he relaxes his throat and surges forward to meet Fives’ thrusts, moaning around his cock and letting the vibrations carry him over the edge. Fives groans brokenly as he squints against the sensation, refusing to close his eyes on the sight of Fox milking his cock as he comes down his throat. 

Shuddering through his orgasm as Fox continues sucking on his cock, he pulls gently at the ex-Commander’s hair, but Fox just takes him down his throat again, burying his face in Fives’ groin as he ground up against the ARC Trooper’s leg. Hissing at the feeling of the warm, wet heat of Fox’s throat, Fives’ gives himself over to the ex-Commander’s mercy, his balls clenching in his sac a second time as he comes again, the feeling of Fox’s lips around his over-sensitive cock too much to bear.

Cupping the back of Fox’s neck as he pulls off Fives’ cock, he murmurs soft encouragements as Fox continues to thrust against his leg, brows furrowing as he moans desperately.

“Come on, Fox,” he whispers, stroking his hands through the ex-Commander’s hair and shifting his leg so that he could lay his head against Fives’ thigh. “You can come, can’t you?”

Crying out, his voice strained, Fox’s hands clutched at Fives’ thigh, his hip, as he buries his face against his cuisse, his hips working erratically. It doesn’t take long, with Fives stroking his hair and urging him to come— Fox jerks against his leg as his orgasm crashes over him suddenly, his legs clamping tightly around Fives’ boot.

Fives continues stroking his hair through it—letting Fox catch his breath as his hips keep twitching on the tail end of his orgasm—until he casts his eyes up at him, watching him for a long moment before finally raising his head from Fives’ thigh.

“So, dinner?” Fives asks again with a self-satisfied smile, leaning in to try and arrange Fox’s curls back into some semblance of order.

“Why are you so insistent on this, Fives? After everything, I’m the last person you should be wanting to get close to,” Fox sighs, all the fight going out of him. Tellingly, he doesn’t move out of Fives’ reach, tilting his head ever so slightly into his palm.

Fives shrugs irreverently, letting his hand smooth down the side of Fox’s face, making note of the stress lines that seem to increase every time he sees him. 

“You almost killed me,” he says, absently wiping at the corner of Fox’s mouth with his thumb. “It’s kinda hot.”

He laughs when Fox snarls—not unlike a disgruntled tooka—and pulls him in closer, kissing him and grinning against his lips when Fox retaliates with a bite before giving in to being kissed.

“Honestly? I find you interesting,” he answers seriously when he releases Fox’s swollen lips, lingering momentarily to brush their foreheads together.

Because it’s not every day that someone goes from shooting at you with intent to kill to believing you when you accuse his direct superior of being a traitor. 

“You’re keeping an eye on me,” Fox retorts bitterly, mouth pulled into a thin line, resigned, and his eyes dull.

Now, that won’t do.

“Oh, I’m sorry— do you fuck every Senator you have under watch?” he asks, tone sharp and stinging— both at Fox’s low estimation of Fives’ interest in him and the uncomfortable worry that, over the course of their affair, he’d taken his teasing too far.

He has to remind himself that the Coruscant Guard was a different beast to the rest of the GAR—especially those permanently assigned to the Senate—and how their battlefields were more often than not of the mental variety. How they were more used to double-talk and careful politicking than they were the straightforward rules of engagement on the frontlines, the occasional Diplomatic Corps missions notwithstanding. And even those, he’d heard, where a minefield of their own.

Echo was always telling him to watch his mouth before he hurt himself.

Here was the proof.

He sighs, unable to hold on to his offence when he can see that his actions have inadvertently hurt his relationship with Fox— have hurt _Fox._

“You can’t think I’d go through all this just to keep an eye on you,” he says, laughing softly. “Quite frankly, I wasn’t trained for that.”

Fox makes an ugly sound at that, ducking his head as well as he can with Five’s cupping his cheek, and his next words are enough to make him screw his eyes shut. “A lack of training has never stopped you before.”

And Fives wishes that there was something that he could do to make Fox understand his feelings— some task he could complete that would lay things out in clear black and white. Fives’ strengths lay in _doing_ things; making plans and executing them, he’d always be first in class. But convincing people of something with his words… his track record was spotty at best, disastrous at worst.

It’s why taking Fox to dinner on an unmistakably romantic holiday had seemed like such a good idea. A solid concept with clearly recognisable intentions— cliche, perhaps, but that should have only counted in his favour. 

Of course, Fives has always had the worst luck, and he’s wound up having this conversation with his cock out.

“I think you’re overestimating my abilities,” he starts, shakes his head, starts again. He can’t hold Fox responsible for misunderstanding when he’s not being clear.

“I can’t— I can’t make you believe me,” he says, tilting Fox’s chin up until their eyes meet. “But I can ask you to hear me out.”

And either Fox will believe him, will trust that Fives didn’t start pursuing him under false pretences, or he won’t.

It’s a little bleak, he thinks as his shoulders slump slightly under the realisation, but it’s the only option left that he can see, the only way they can move forward without drowning in their own baggage.

It’s also the only way he’ll be able to stay in Fox’s orbit. Because he can’t imagine being able to continue whatever it is they have if Fox thinks that Fives is just… using him while holding a knife behind his back.

For his part, Fox is silent for a long time— studying Fives with an impenetrable expression as he considers the request seriously.

Eventually, he nods— looking resolved, rather than resigned. 

It’s enough for a spark of hope to ignite in Fives’ chest.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I’m sticking to an actual writing commitment haha
> 
> If you see any errors, let me know 😩
> 
> tumblr: @babzilla


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